


By His Side

by lovedeterrence



Category: Metal Gear
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-15
Updated: 2015-09-15
Packaged: 2018-04-20 21:21:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4802618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovedeterrence/pseuds/lovedeterrence
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(spoilers for The Phantom Pain)<br/>For nine years, Ocelot watched over him, hell or high water.</p>
            </blockquote>





	By His Side

**Author's Note:**

> tfw tpp puts you back in bbocelot hell even tho you thought you let go
> 
> enjoy!

00:00 and Ocelot sipped a cup of bitter black coffee. The sounds of the beeping hospital machines kept him awake. And his eyes on the rise and fall of John’s chest as he breathes.

He’s used to this. It’s routine. Every night he possibly can manage he comes here like a guard dog. Ocelot watched his breathing again. He knew the other man’s breath wouldn’t stop; the machines kept it going. It was a thought that gave him a twinge of sadness to see someone once so strong, beautiful, and powerful sustained only by machines.

Ocelot sat up in his chair. He often caught himself speculating. Did people in comas dream and if they did, what was going through John’s head right now? Did he know Ocelot was here? Did it help him rest easier? Was he frustrated? He had to be. Not doing anything. Helpless. Maybe scared if he really didn’t know Ocelot was here. The man felt his face curve into a frown. He would never have the courage to do this if John were awake, but he reached out his hand, and grazed his fingertips against John’s forehead, tracing the wrinkle down his cheek. To Ocelot’s slight dismay, there was no reaction from the beeping machine that measured his pulse and he wondered if John really could not feel.

“I’m here,” he whispered softly.

A month and many hospital visits later, Ocelot entered in the room that he knew John was resting. It was storming out tonight and his hair, skin, and clothes were uncomfortably cold and soaked to the bone. It was a comfort to enter the room tonight. Then again, it usually was. This place had almost become like a home for him. He was definitely here more than anywhere else. He felt more comfortable here. He felt this was his place to be Adam, rather than the spy, rather than the interrogator, rather than whatever else the world saw him as. Ocelot never really knew what a home was, but maybe he had found it. Ocelot’s home was here, by his side.

He sat in the chair next to the hospital bed, not caring about the rain dripping down and making the floor beneath him slippery. He closed his eyes, and leaned his head on the hospital bed, not caring anymore. The lack of distance between them was nothing compared to how much they’ve been through together. Ocelot watched him, memorizing his features for what had felt like the millionth time in his life. He took John’s hand in his own, remembering all the times it’d been used on him in CQC and smiled a sad grin. Age really had slowed them down. He stroked John’s hand with his thumb, and though the both men had cold skin, Ocelot felt a warmth stirring between their hands. He missed him. He kept caressing John’s hand gently with his thumb and leaned back in his chair, allowing happier memories to flood his brain to distract himself from the situation at hand.

Ocelot caught himself humming a peaceful tune, wondering if John would hear, if John would recognize his voice. It had been awhile since he’d heard it. Twenty years does change a lot. Once enemies on the battlefield, Ocelot never thought he would have fallen like this. But something sparked in him when he looked at John for the first time. Did John feel it too? He couldn’t help but ask a little sadly.

“I’ll always be here,” he spoke softly, still leaned back with his eyes closed. He did not want to relinquish John’s hand. The memories played in his head like some kind of movie as he felt his thoughts turning into a blur.

When Ocelot awoke, his face was almost buried in John’s chest and the other man’s hand was around his neck. His heart was racing.

Did John… move?

But distraught, he knew that wasn’t the case. He must have draped the other man’s arm around his shoulders in his sleep, wanting to feel close to him. Frustrated, embarrassed and mildly ashamed, he dragged his chair to the window and plopped down. He lost the privilege of being next to him for tonight. He didn’t even acknowledge the couple of tears that rolled down his face and trickled into his beard as he watched the raindrops splatter against the window.

After that, Ocelot retained more control of his emotions. He would go in, wait, watch, leave, and repeat. But he was not emotionless, especially not when it came to the other man and there were times he would slip.

He walked in, as though it were any other night, but it hurt more than other nights. He missed him more than other nights. He wanted to see John’s face come to life. He missed John’s blue eye that’s always shaken him up inside, made those childish butterflies flutter through his stomach giddily. He missed John’s smile and other facial expressions that when John wore them, they were all the most beautiful thing Ocelot had ever seen. He was in his usual chair by his side, looking down at the body that if he didn’t know any better could only be just sleeping. But he’s been watching him sleep like this for nine years. Usually, it kept Ocelot up at night. Other nights, it haunted him to his core. The feeling of John’s presence so close but so far was tormenting to him and he missed him. He missed him with every single fiber of his being, every single cell that made up his body and they all yearned for one thing, screaming his name in agony. John. Snake. Big Boss. _Him._

He stood up, preparing to leave as his shift was over, but couldn’t take his eyes off of the other man. He bent over slightly, making the distance between them too much for Ocelot, but too close for anyone else.

Ocelot sighed shakily and leaned closer to John’s face. “I miss you,” he whispered, the words trembling. _I miss you._

Almost instinctively, Ocelot’s lips pressed against John’s, and he could have sworn that the beeping on John’s machine sped up, but it must have been his own heart racing.

“I miss you,” he said it again as though they were the only words he knew how to say out loud, the only words he was capable of feeling and noticed the tears falling down his face and landing on John’s. He wiped the tears off of the other man with his thumb, mentally apologizing to John and berating himself for this.

With a tremored deep breath, he leaned down again, pressing his lips ever so delicately to John’s forehead. He stood up properly again, and without looking back at the man he loved, he exited that room and the hospital today.


End file.
